


The Night Race

by pterawaters



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M, Motorcycles, Post Season/Series 03, Puckurt Drabble fortnight, Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the summer after graduation and Kurt had a secret. An expensive secret. Kurt had told his father he was saving all his money for college in a year. Kurt had told Blaine that he couldn't go out as much because his father needed him at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Race

It was the summer after graduation and Kurt had a secret. An expensive secret. Kurt had told his father he was saving all his money for college in a year. Kurt had told Blaine that he couldn't go out as much because his father needed him at home.

The truth was that Kurt poured most of his time and money into one hobby: motorcycle racing. And not the regulated races run by the county Motocross club, the illegal ones out on country roads in the middle of the night. Kurt's sponsor, Ralph – who was one of the mechanics at Hummel Tire and Lube – had told him once that one of the sheriff's deputies was in on it. The deputy made sure a certain stretch of road was empty for a certain amount of time and a race went down.

Kurt had been racing for just over a year (since Ralph and the other sponsors made damn sure you were eighteen before they let you win any prize money) and he had yet to win a race. But he was starting to get good. "You got good instincts," Ralph told Kurt after his first race, where he'd almost wiped out and ended up coming in last. "But you get cocky, and you get dead. You got me?"

"I got you," Kurt said, adrenaline still making his body tight and excited. As much as he wanted to get out there and try again and really _win_ , Kurt made himself take it slow. He practiced when he could, raced when Ralph would let him, and slowly worked his way up the ranks.

It was late June when Tiny McGovern's engine spluttered him over the finish line just ahead of Kurt, and then exploded. With Tiny out of the running for the next race while he rebuilt his bike, Kurt was a shoo-in for first. 

The next race wasn't until the second of July, while most of Lima was spending their night watching the early fireworks show downtown. The stretch of road was just as dark as any other night, the flares marking the finish line red points in the distance. 

Kurt got out in front early, but then backed off, pushing the engine that rumbled between his just to the point where it started to sing. There was this frequency his bike performed at best, and Kurt smiled every time he heard it, because it resonated at F5. Defying gravity, all the way. (Kurt had wanted to name his bike Elphaba and paint it green, by Ralph had insisted green was extremely unlucky. Judy was painted deep red, instead.)

About a mile and a half from the finish line, Kurt pushed Judy out of her comfort zone and pulled ahead of Gus Turk. Paul Larkin rode just a dozen yards ahead, but Kurt's headlight caught more than a little smoke coming off his engine. Kurt's ears told him the engine would fail in the next twenty seconds or so. All Kurt had to do before he finally, finally won a race was to hang in there and keep Turk behind him. 

Paul's bike shuddered and swerved, so Kurt gave it a wide bearth as he pulled up and around, back in first place just three quarters of a mile from the finish line.

A swerving light from one of the bikes behind Kurt made him listen closely, tuning out Judy's determined whine. There. A new bike, and it was gaining fast. A glance in his left hand mirror showed Kurt that a headlight was approaching, but not which bike was trying to take Kurt's victory from him. 

Then the bike whipped around Kurt and he realized that he didn't recognize it, or the rider. Where in the hell had he come from and who the hell let him race not only with a bigger class engine that should have disaualified him, but also without any armor? The idiot wore a t-shirt and a helmet and the pressure differential caused by the way his bike displaced the air had sucked his shirt up, exposing his lower back.

Kurt had to admit it was a really nice back, and he kind of wanted to know what the rider smelled like, but then Kurt realized that the finish line was approaching too quickly to think about things like that. 

Kurt didn't care that this asshole would automatically be disqualified; he was going to win this race if it was the last thing he did. Kurt hadn't gotten into college, he had no idea what he was doing with the rest of his life, but god damn it, he was going to win this race.

"C'mon, Judy," he murmured to his bike before pushing her up into the next gear. 

The dark, uneaven road made Kurt wary of the speed he would need to win this, but he knew he and Judy could handle it. He'd built her with his own two hands, after all. The road whipped by beneath them and Kurt sneaked past on the stranger's right side, riding the edge of the road for a few hundred yards before pulling back toward the middle and into first place. Kurt heard the stranger push his engine harder, but it was no use. The finish line flew by and Kurt had won!

Giddy with accomplishment, Kurt brought Judy to a halt on the side of the road, planting his feet and throwing both fists into the air. Ralph ran toward Kurt from the sidelines, bowling Kurt over with a giant bear hug and a tearfully proud, "Ya did it, kid! Ya really did it! Ya won!"

Kurt pulled off his helmet, his hair drenched with the sweat of the warm summer night and the exertion of racing. "I won! I won! And did you see that _asshole_ with the 800cc behemoth? Who even let him on the road?"

"I think he was just out for a joyride and stumbled onto the course," Ralph replied, nodding over Kurt's shoulder. The stranger had brought his bike to a stop a little way past where Kurt stood, and was taking off his helmet. 

It was difficult to see in the dim light from the bikes still on the track and from the few trucks parked at the finish line, but Kurt suddenly realized that the stranger looked familiar. "Puck?"

Puck pushed down his kickstand and steadied his bike as he called back, "Kurt? How the fuck?" Puck got off his bike and Kurt did the same, meeting Puck in the space between their two machines. "Did you just win the most badass race I've ever seen in my _life_?"

Smiling smugly, Kurt wedged his helmet under one arm. "I did, no thanks to you and your distractiveness. You're not supposed to be here."

"Dude, it's a county road. I'm supposed to see a race on a county road and just stay out of it? Yeah, I don't think so." Puck's grin shone in the dim light. "Besides, my uncle's only in town with his bike until the fourth. I gotta get my thrills in while I can."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You're not an experienced rider and you were pulling those moves back there? You could have got yourself killed."

Grabbing the zipper pull of Kurt's armor jacket, Puck tugged on it with a grin. "You're one to talk, Mr. I-win-awesome-street-races."

"It's the first time I won," Kurt clarified, slapping Puck's hand away. He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered, or just more annoyed. "Now go away. I have prize money to collect." Kurt turned on his heel and stode back toward Ralph and Judy.

"Okay," Puck called from behind Kurt. "But you should know I'm very attracted to you right now!"

Kurt knew it was a joke, and he even laughed a little, but he could feel his cheeks heat up just the same. He chalked it up to endorphins from winning is race and tried to forget Puck had even been out on the road that night.

And the next night, when Kurt was making out with his boyfriend, Kurt really had to remind himself not to picture a shirt flapping up in the breeze and thumb-sized back dimples in olive skin, glowing in Kurt's headlight and surrounded by pitch black night.


End file.
